- Rain -

Despite the chaotic events of the night, my body and mind feel sluggish. The drugs and alcoholic buzz have subsided and left me with a heavy exhaustion. As I slowly get ready for bed, I leave a small light on as I find solace in the gentle glow it fills in my studio. The reassuring luminescent sweeps away the darkness and dispels the shadows. The tiny, glowing orb stands solitary on my bedside table, creating a tranquil halo.

I find a sense of security and calm, enough to fall asleep without the unease of looming shadows.

And I wake up suddenly in a dark forest. The swaying trees create shapes and shadows in the dark. The surroundings are dark and foggy. I can barely make out the details, but there is a sense of danger in the air.

Wake up. It's just a dream. I tell myself.

Wake up!

Yet, the smells and profound sense of pain are too real.

The central figure in the nightmare is the man from the boat house--the one with the faint, ethereal glow. He appears in this dream as an imposing presence. His figure is unmistakable despite the darkness. I still cannot make out his entire face, as I never fully saw it.

But I can sense his expression, an unsettling blend of allure and menace.

As the nightmare unfolds, I see my shirt is tattered with blood dripping down my shoulder. There is a searing and throbbing heat, which only amplifies my fear. I have not felt anything like this. I find myself rushing in panic through the woods, not paying any heed to the sharp branches stabbing into my body.

The man's voice echoes through the darkness, calling out my name with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine. He is searching for me, his tone a mix of desperation and unsettling calm.

I find myself running through the shifting, darkened environment, the ground beneath me seeming to change with every step. My heart is pounding with the effort and fear. The feeling of being chased is overwhelming as if the very air is charged with his pursuit.

I can hear him getting closer, but can never see him directly. The more I run, the more the landscape shifts and distorts. I am unable to make sense of direction and safety. Every attempt to escape seems to lead her deeper into the nightmare. My feet seem to sink deeply into the ground as if stepping into thick mud.

I am unable to move my feet no longer.

I panic but grasp the handle of my dagger tightly in my hand. I can feel warm liquid dripping from my palm as I clench it.

"Rain."  My heart stops in terror.

And I feel a sudden jolt of awareness, a shock that pulls her out of the nightmare. My eyes snap open and find myself back in the safety of my room. My bed is drenched in sweat as I curl up against my bedframe.

It was just a nightmare. I tell myself over and over again. The dreams are so vivid and disturbing, more than anything I have experienced before. The images and emotions are still fresh in my mind as I struggle to shake off the lingering fear and pain.

The message is clear and has left me shaken with a gnawing sense of dread about my mated partner and the unresolved feelings connected to him.

I sit up in bed and focus on my room. What was I supposed to have done? Walk into the boat house and announce he's my partner? I was intoxicated and high off my mind. I probably would have died. He might not even care he is my partner. Maybe it is the nightmare talking, but I feel a deep sense of mistrust.

My heart continues to pound and I brew some hot tea leaves on my stove. I am wide awake now. I resign myself to my desk to memorize some history textbooks.

__

In the days following the unsettling nightmares, I return to the rhythm of my daily life as I again try to find solace in routine and familiar activities. My days are filled with comforting predictability: hanging out with Aster, attending classes, studying diligently, and spending time with Roan and the twins. This routine provides some normalcy for me.

Despite meeting her partner, Aster is determined to prioritize her education. She often video calls and texts Silas, but his business makes it difficult for him to visit often. Sometimes, I can sense her frustration since it is difficult for newly mated pairs to be away from each other for too long.

Aster continues to be a constant presence and our time together is still filled with laughter and relaxation. We continue to meet at Scout's, go on long runs around the town, or simply hang out in each other's room. I find comfort and distraction in her companionship.

The academic environment continues to build with deadlines and projects, offering the necessary distraction from my fears and unease.

My brother and the twins add another layer of normalcy to my life. They continue to host game nights and dinners as we hang out.

Despite this routine, the vivid nightmares persist. They remain a jarring intrusion and leave me feeling unsettled. I cannot be in my apartment without leaving the lights on.

I am trained in combat fighting and can severely maim someone with a pen, but I am afraid of the fucking dark.

My past self would be laughing at the ridiculous nature of this.

Adding further to my discomfort, I am plagued with increasing headaches. The pain is persistent and often debilitating. It is most likely brought on either by heavy caffeine, lack of sleep, intense exercise, and stress..or all of the above. I suspect the stress is related to the nightmares as my mind and body are at odds. Perhaps my subconscious mind is struggling to process and reject the connection I have been avoiding.

Are the headaches a manifestation of my subconscious rejecting my mate?

It is not like we touched, which is usually enough for our souls to recognize each other. My knowledge is quite limited on the actual soul recognition between Kindred. The elders always say once you touch, your souls will recognize one another. The marks glow and resonate. As you mark one another, you can complete the mark. Everything is innate and your instincts will take over. It is almost a primal instinct.

The pounding of my head breaks my train of thought. Each time my head pulses, my marks seem to pulse in sync. I notice they pulse and grow warm to the touch whenever I wake up from my nightmares.

I dig into my desk drawer and pop a few more pain reliever pills. I am determined to push through these issues and finish my quarter strong. I will focus on my studies and routines.

__

As the Thanksgiving holidays approach, Roan and I opt to stay at school. Since Jin is still in Italy and we only have one week off, we figure we will have a large family gathering for the winter.

During the break, the campus is almost deserted but I still need to finish up some projects. I head into our main library.

The library's exterior features a grand facade with towering columns and ornate carvings. The building is constructed with pale stone which has weathered gracefully over time. The massive arched windows provide ample lighting for students to study all day without feeling suffocated. This is one of my favorite spots to study when I am alone.

Upon entering, I am greeted by a vast atrium and high, vaulted ceilings. The walls are lined with dark wood paneling which contrasts the pale marble floors. The main reading rooms have rows of tall bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling and elegant chandeliers hang from the ceiling.

As my migraines and dreams continue to plague me, I have been waiting for the break to sneak into the private section of the library-- a restricted area known for its rare and specialized collections. Despite my family's deep history, we still need to go through formal processes to secure a private section admission tag. It is not difficult for me, but the librarian head and university dean need to approve the process.  Depending on which collection I am trying to view, the Caspian Head may need to approve since they are the clan that oversees this campus. The last thing I need is for my family to know about this.

I lower my head to avoid the cameras and wait until closing before I make my way towards the private section.  My deep hoody, cap, and face mask make me look suspicious.

I had to learn about the security measures in place for the private section for several weeks. This included security codes, keycards, and a staff-only entrance. I spent weeks observing staff entering the private section. There were only four with enough clearance to the section, one of which was the library head, who was out of the question.

I pickpocketed one of the librarians when someone accidentally knocked over a stack of books. I was able to swap out her keycard with a duplicate.

The private section is a dimly lit, secluded space. Rows of old, dusty books and ancient manuscripts line the shelves. I search through the several rare volumes and esoteric texts on Kindred history and the marking bonds.

I pore through a few dusty tomes and handwritten notes, absorbing any information I can. I gingerly page through each book with my gloved hand since each book is a relic. There are several books I am unable to decipher. As part of our education, my family is fluent in many languages--Italian, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, and English.

Several are written in ancient Greek. My fluency is very basic in ancient Greek and has deteriorated. I stick to the Latin texts and hope I find something useful.

The texts I discovered suggest that the intense migraines and vivid nightmares could be manifestations of my subconscious struggle with the recognition and acceptance of the mate bond.  According to some sources, these symptoms can occur when someone is subconsciously resisting or rejecting a significant connection, especially one as profound as a fated mate. The texts offer little on why such symptoms would persist without clear contact.

The library's dusty tomes and scattered handwritten notes speak in hushed tones about strong pairings—connections so profound that they could manifest physical and psychological effects. These accounts, while not abundant, hinted at phenomena similar to what I was experiencing: intense migraines and vivid nightmares often linked to the strength of the connection. 

The migraines were likely due to our souls attempting to reconnect. The intensity of the link between us was causing my body to react, struggling with the effort to align our bond. It was as if my subconscious was fighting to bridge the gap created by our separation, and this struggle was manifesting in these debilitating headaches.

I close the book abruptly. It is as if fate is forcing my hands together.

A small notepad falls from the book. I glance through the scribbled handwriting closely.

If the bond remains unfulfilled, individuals will suffer hallucinations, nightmares, and migraine. The darkness will cling to their soul and the mark will grow to consume their body and burn them from within.

There was an experiment forcing two partners together and breaking their bonds. The consequences were severe and fragmented their souls. It created an Ignis Maledictionis, or the Burning Curse of Eternal Flame, triggered by forcefully altered or severed bonds.

It was not just a punishment. Their skin would burn with a heat that no amount of water could quench. The insides would be seared by flames. The forced pair would share the experience as they are linked, but their true pair would also feel the same burning agony. The curse would show small, unexplained burns on their skin and each mate would share the same. Eventually, all parties would succumb to the flame.

I am horrified but unable to stop as I read three failed experiments to stop the flames from burning everyone. They tried lobotomy, alchemy, and poison.

I close the notepad and slip it back onto the shelf.

My fate was sealed by the mark and I had to embrace the bond or we would both be consumed by the ignis maledictionis.

My clan promotes pairings and never forces bonds. That is probably why my mother and our elders have not mentioned the details of this severe consequence to us. It just doesn't happen.

I feel goosebumps like I have overstayed my welcome. I slowly sneak back out of the private section. I duck into the staff-only bathroom, where I made sure to leave the window unlocked. I climb through the window opening and land lightly on the second-story rooftop. Slowly, I leap to the first story and use the momentum to roll forward only my shoulder before sliding down the column.

I sprint back to my studio, once again with my thoughts racing a mile a minute in my head.